Page 10 of 12 Months of Mayhem

“What? No!” I didn’t want my uncle getting involved in this.

“Don’t argue. Dallas and I are on the way too. Anson is going to stay at the house with Dexter. I’m getting in my truck now,” he insisted, and I could hear when it switched to his Bluetooth.

It seemed like mere seconds before I heard the roar of a familiar bike. He’d obviously been in the area. When my uncle pulled up next to me, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

He was quickly off his bike, his gaze sweeping the area, then he gently gripped my arms as he looked into my eyes.

“Little gator, are you okay?” His childhood nickname for me almost had me crying. He hadn’t called me that in ages.

Still holding my phone to my ear, I nodded. “Uncle Bowie, I’m fine. I’m just mad.”

“Ryian? I’m gonna let you go since your uncle is there,” I heard Dalton say.

“Okay.”

“See you soon,” he promised, then ended the call.

“I think you guys are making a bigger deal out of this than you need to,” I told my uncle as I sighed. “I’m pissed, but now that I’ve gotten over the initial shock, it was probably a disgruntled patient that we denied narcotics to or something. It doesn’t make it any better, but I’m okay. I’ll just call the police and file a report.”

“No, we’re going to take care of it.”

“Uncle Bowie,” I argued, but he slowly shook his head. I rolled my eyes. “I need to be able to file a police report to get it repainted.”

“I’ll talk to Boom, and we’ll get Spook to repaint it. He’ll do a better job and get it done quicker than a body shop anyway,” Bowie insisted. Then he gave me a huge hug.

“I can’t afford to pay for it out of pocket,” I muttered into his leather cut.

“You don’t worry about that, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

A vehicle stopped behind us, and my uncle released me. I turned to see who it was, and my heart ached when I saw Dalton climb out of his truck and rush to me. I threw myself into his arms. It wasn’t to cry on his shoulder or because I was afraid—it was simply because being close to him calmed me and made me feel at peace.

“You okay?” he quietly asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Irritated that someone could be so petty, but it could be worse.” I buried my nose in his neck and breathed him in. His strong arms wrapped tighter around me, then he released me. I stepped back to see Dallas walking around my truck.

Was he… sniffing it?

“Anything?” my uncle asked him as he came back around.

I was so confused.

“Yeah, but I don’t understand it,” Dallas finally muttered as he absently ran the tips of his index and middle fingers over his lower lip.

“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” I demanded in exasperation.

Yet before any of them could answer, a big black truck towing a flatbed trailer pulled up. A guy got out that I recognized as having been to the hardware store with my uncle before.

“Hey, Spook. Thanks for coming out so quick,” my uncle said as the man approached, and they shook hands.

“VP,” he greeted my uncle and then nodded at Dalton and Dallas. He gave me a half smile before he ducked his head and walked around to the back of the trailer to drop the ramp.

“Keys, kiddo,” my uncle prompted as he held out his hand. I gave him my key ring, and he quickly started it, backed it out of the parking spot, then pulled it up onto the trailer. They all made quick work of stretching a cover over my truck, then they secured the truck to the trailer and the cover to the truck.

Tears welled in my eyes at the thoughtfulness of these gruff men.

“Let’s go home. Anson is waiting for us. You can drive my truck until yours is ready,” Dalton whispered in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. His lips brushed my neck and made me shiver.

When I grabbed the door handle to the backseat, Dalton stopped me. “No, baby. You get up front.”

---